Phone Networks
by reincarnatedwitch
Summary: Written in response to the blackberry network going down. Sherlock's phone won't work, he can't send texts, he can't recieve texts and the internet's out of the question... Poor John.


**AN: This is a drabble - based on the fact that the BlackBerry network is still down! And I'm not bothered by that…not at all… *Cough* Anyway, I caught myself wondering what Sherlock would be like should his phone network break down - and hence this was born! **

**Disclaimer: Nope. But I'm willing to pay the contents of my pockets - 2 buttons and a paperclip - in order to own it… **

"Argh!" Sherlock shouted angrily from the corner of the living room, his hand itching to throw the offending phone across the living room. John barely reacted in the kitchen, merely peering around the doorframe - his mouth full of a rather questionable substance he'd found in the fridge.

"The network still not working?" He asked. Well; tried to ask. It came out more as " T' netwrock shtil ut wrkng?"

Sherlock merely glared at him in answer. When it became clear that John wasn't going to continue the conversation, he growled again and flung his arms up in the air and started pacing the length of the room, waving his arms about to emphasize every word. "It's stupid! I _need _my phone, How is Lestrade supposed to reach me if there are any new cases? How am I going to find out if Molly has the things I ordered in the morgue? It's like living in the dark ages!"

John suppressed a giggle at Sherlock's injured expression. "Try and look on the bright side." He suggested instead, and withdrew back into the kitchen, before promptly rummaging through the fridge in search of anything even vaguely edible. He knew it was a waste of time, but he still hoped that one day some nice ham or something would appear.

"What bright side?" Sherlock mumbled, thumbing the keyboard of his phone anxiously, then sighing loudly when whatever he was doing obviously failed… again.

"I don't know… at least your brother can't text you?"

"Oh but he can. Such trivial things as a network going down don't apply to my '_dear brother_'." Sherlock marched over to the kitchen and almost smashed his phone against John's face, in the sudden brightness John could just make out the words:

**Stop stropping dear brother, it doesn't suit you. **

**It'll do you good to have to actually communicate for a day; I'm pretty sure it won't kill you.**

**-MH**

"And I can't even reply!"

John just made a noncommittal sympathetic noise, and squeezed past Sherlock to get to his laptop - which was already running, thanks to a _certain someone _guessing his password yet again. He opened his blog and began to draft another entry, revelling in the rare silence that an angry Sherlock without a case occasionally brought.

For half an hour there was absolute silence in the flat, only the sound of John's typing and the occasional tap of Sherlock's phone broke the calm. So when Sherlock suddenly sprang upright and Shouted angrily, John almost had a heart-attack.

"And now they're sending me _useless _texts!"

"Jesus Sherlock!" John scolded, his hand over his rapidly beating heart "Don't do that! Who's sending you useless texts?"

"The network! _' You may still be experiencing problems'_ Yes, I am! _'Research in Motion is working to resolve this urgently'_ Not bloody urgently enough!"

"Look, can't you just call Lestrade?"

"Why should I? He should come to me if he needs my help - I'm not just a dog who will follow him around indefinitely."

"Oh make up your mind! Either you go and find Lestrade and demand he give you a case, or so _help _me Sherlock, I will throw you out that window!"

"What would that achieve?"

"Well it would get you out from under my feet for one! Go and complain somewhere else, I have things to do."

Sherlock scowled and stormed off grumpily down the stairs, presumably to pester poor Mrs Hudson, who no doubt knew nothing about phone networks, but would try to help anyway.

John sighed and typed the last few lines of his blog, posting it before shutting the laptop and heading out the door. Someone was going to have to buy food sooner or later.

**Posted by John Watson, 12/10/11, at 12:45pm. **

PHONE NETWORKS:

This is a personal plea to all the criminals of London, and, failing that, the decent people who are just having a bit of a bad day.

Will one of you please, _please, _commit a crime! I'm going insane here!

If the above is impossible - anyone with expertise in fixing broken phone networks is needed; quite urgently. I fear that it won't be long before a certain detective is prowling the streets in boredom… And we all know what that means.

In other news; anyone know where to buy good ham that would be easily distinguishable from human body parts if left in the fridge for an extended amount of time?


End file.
